


The Desired Response

by OneBlueUmbrella (bigblueboxat221b)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Mind Palace, Overthinking, POV Sherlock Holmes, Pre-Slash, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:15:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29976540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblueboxat221b/pseuds/OneBlueUmbrella
Summary: Sherlock knows John, and he's confident his approach will get him the desired response. Unfortunately, nobody told John...
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	The Desired Response

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyTuesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyTuesday/gifts).



Sherlock stood up, hesitating before he turned to John. Deep in his mind palace he’d disregarded several scenarios before settling on this approach, and he was confident enough it was worth the effort. His desired result fell at the end of an unfamiliar path, and unfortunately his study of humans did not translate as easily as he’d anticipated. John wasn’t like other people, and the simple approach he might attempt with anyone else would surely fail. Hence the hours this afternoon in his mind palace disregarding foolish ideas.

“Tea?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

The response should have been immediate and bright, but instead John sighed, his eyes closing for a second. Sherlock didn’t actually frown – his expressions were under far too tight control to do so without asking – but confusion reigned as he waited for John’s words. When the doctor finally opened his mouth, Sherlock felt himself brace.

“Jesus,” he muttered without opening his eyes.

Sherlock blinked. That was entirely unenlightening. “Problem?” he ventured.

“I just got home after a long day at work,” John said evenly, though the tightness Sherlock recognised as John’s iron control threaded through his tone. “If you’d been listening when I came in, you’d know how my day went.” Sherlock didn’t speak; this was ‘needing-to-rant’ John. Sure enough, he continued. “This morning, the bus was late and I arrived just in time to be vomited on by a sick child so I spent the whole day smelling terrible.” He opened his eyes, glaring at Sherlock. “And now that I’ve been sitting down for all of five seconds, you’re asking me to make you tea?”

Understanding flowed through Sherlock, and he opened his mouth to reply, but John got in first, heaving himself up and leaning heavily on his cane. A flash of something uncomfortable shot through Sherlock. The same thing had happened a few times recently, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was always associated with John, but never lasted long enough for analysis.

“As if you’re completely unable to do this basic task for yourself,” John muttered. “When I’m the one…” he bit off the end of his sentence, but Sherlock knew what he would have said. Making his way to the door John grabbed his jacket with one hand, awkwardly shrugging it on without letting go of his cane. “I’m going out,” he shot over his shoulder. “Don’t wait up. And maybe you could clean enough of the mugs so one of us could actually make tea if they wanted some.”

Sherlock’s mouth hung open as John stumped down the stairs, the uneven gait emphasised until the exterior door slammed. He closed his mouth, conscious of how ridiculous he looked even with nobody around.

_Well, that did not follow the expected path._

With a frown, Sherlock sank into his chair. There was no use cleaning the kitchen; instead he would consider how to do it differently next time. With the right approach, John would surely respond in the manner Sherlock predicted. After all, who knew John better than he?


End file.
